


I Can’t Fight This Feeling - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

by deanwanddamons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean Winchester Fluff, Dean Winchester Reader Insert - Freeform, Dean Winchester Smut, F/M, Rough Dean Winchester, dean winchester fanfiction, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwanddamons/pseuds/deanwanddamons
Summary: This was a drabble request - Dean x reader where the reader is mad at Dean for some reason. You can decide! Dean puts on their song, they slow dance, and it turns into sexy time! - but also going to use it as a submission challenge on Tumblr. My prompt was the song ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling’ by REO Speedwagon. The line I used from the song is in italics, but I have also used it as ‘their song’
Relationships: Dean Winchester - Relationship, Reader - Relationship
Kudos: 12





	I Can’t Fight This Feeling - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

“How many more times do I have to say it, Dean!?” Y/N yelled, exasperation evident in her tone. “I can look after myself. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass every time we’re on a hunt!” 

She yanked her arm out of Dean’s grasp as she stomped down the iron staircase into the bunker. Throwing her duffel bag down onto the war room table, she turned to the green-eyed hunter close on her heels. 

“Okay, okay, I was only trying to help. No need to bite my head off!” he snapped back at her, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just - you know, can’t handle the thought of you, you know, getting hurt,” he sighed, stumbling over his words as he ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I know you can look after yourself, but when you’re in danger instincts kick in and I just - well, need to protect you.” 

“This is exactly the reason why I have always hunted alone,” she began, throwing her arms in the air in frustration. “Because I’m a woman, no one in the hunting community has ever taken me seriously. But when I met you and Sam I thought I’d finally been accepted,” Y/N huffed, picking up her duffel bag and throwing it over her shoulder. “I need a shower,” she mumbled, walking towards her room. 

It’s only because I love you, Dean thought to himself, as she disappeared around the corner. He wanted to follow her, but knew it was best to leave her alone when she was in this kind of mood. Flopping down into a chair, he rested his elbows on the war room table and brought his hands up to his stubbled jaw. Rubbing his face, he sighed. 

Y/N meant everything to Dean. Even though he had only known her for barely a year, he had surprised himself with his feelings for her. What started out as friendship, had grown stronger, and he only wished he had the strength to let it show. He hadn’t even admitted it to his younger brother. He couldn’t love someone, shouldn’t love someone. It would only bring them heartbreak, It was a well known fact that in their world, relationships didn’t end well. 

The brothers had been on a number of hunts with Y/N and she was an extremely capable hunter. She was right; she could easily take care of herself. But when she was taken by surprise by a ghoul this evening, Dean had pushed her aside, denying her the kill shot. She was pissed, understandably so. 

Y/N barely said two words to him in the Impala on the journey back, but had exploded when they’d reached the bunker. He had never met a woman before with a temper as volatile as his own. This was part of the attraction. This, and the fact she was beautiful, sexy, funny, smart, and a total badass. He knew he’d met his match. She was sarcastic and could easily out sass him. This is why he had fallen hard and fast for the incredible lady who was currently sharing a home with them. 

He knew he needed to find a way to apologise to her, to explain why he acted the way he did. But he had never been the type of person who found it easy to articulate his feelings. Added to this, was his concern that his fondness was not reciprocated. However, he was acutely aware that life was too short to be scared of rejection, especially in their line of work. 

The realisation that he couldn’t fight this feeling anymore, struck him like a freight train. Slamming his fists down on the table in frustration, he scraped the chair along the floor as he stood up, not really sure what his next move was going to be. He just knew something had to be done about the situation. 

———————————————————————-  
Y/N emptied her bag out on the bed as she waited for the shower to heat up. Rummaging through the contents she tried to distract herself as her temper subsided. She hadn’t meant to go off on Dean like that, but he drove her crazy sometimes. 

She’d been hunting for almost as long as him and Sam, yet he still treated her like she was some kind of apprentice. She knew he was only looking out for her, but it drove her mad. She’d proved time and time again that she was a capable fighter, that she knew how to use numerous weapons, understood the lore and knew how to deal with the majority of creatures they came across. Besides, she wanted Dean to see how good she was in her job. 

She sat down hard on the bed, launching an empty water bottle into the waste bin, after which her thoughts wandered to Dean. She hated seeing him flirting with other women. How casually he would go home with them, coming back in the early hours of the morning, usually with a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. She’d mastered the art of pretending that she didn’t care, teasing him about how easy he was, when in reality she wanted to scream every time he talked about his latest conquest. 

She’d developed deep feelings for the complicated older Winchester, and was trying desperately to quell them. Her coping mechanism was to try and keep him at arm's length, and if that meant finding a way to argue with him, then that’s what she did. 

Stripping out of her stained clothes, she walked into the steam-filled bathroom and stepped into the shower. The hot water soothed her aching muscles. As she washed her hair, she felt the pent up anger flow down the drain along with the shampoo suds. She needed to get a grip on her temper. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that she’d fallen for him. 

After all, what sane, straight woman wouldn’t? Not only was he incredibly good looking, but he was also funny, caring and matched her dark sense of humour perfectly. He enjoyed the same music and films as her, and was just as passionate about food as she was. 

She smiled at the memories of them sharing a beer and some cherry pie last week, when they were in a good mood with each other and not at each other’s throats for a change. 

The shower had subdued her anger. She was feeling much more relaxed when she stepped out, wrapping a fluffy white towel around herself. She’d brought a change of clothes into the bathroom, so dried off and got dressed, combed her hair and walked back into her bedroom. 

She was taken by surprise that the room was dark, except for the flickering candlelight.  
When she went to reach for the light switch, the baritone voice coming from the gloom halted her actions.

“Leave the light off, Y/N.” 

Peering into the faint light, she could make out a silhouette on the edge of her bed. Slowly, Dean rose, and walked towards her. 

“Dean? What the..?”

“Sshh,” he whispered, pressing a button on the remote control that he had in his hand. Soft music filled the room, and she recognised the song straight away. It was one that her and Dean would sing at the top of their lungs while he was driving Baby. He had confided in her that the song was one of his guilty pleasures, something he wouldn’t even admit to Sam, since he was afraid it would ruin his ‘street cred’. And since then, if she asked him to play ‘our song’ he knew exactly which one she meant. 

It was ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling’ by REO Speedwagon. 

As he walked towards her, she went to speak again but was cut off by him raising his hand.  
“Don’t speak. Just listen to the words,” he said quietly.  
Taking her by the hand, he moved them into the middle of the room. He pulled her into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist and began to slowly sway side to side. 

“What are you doing, Dean?”

“Dance with me, Y/N?” he asked.

Her arms automatically reached up for his shoulders and she rested her head into the crook of his neck, swaying along with him. Doing as he asked, she listened to the words, even though she knew them off by heart. But they had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning. 

‘Oh, I can't fight this feeling any longer  
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow  
What started out this friendship has grown stronger  
I only wish I had the strength to let it show

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever  
I said there is no reason for my fear  
'Cause I feel so secure when we're together  
You give my life direction  
You make everything so clear

And even as I wander  
I'm keeping you in sight  
You're a candle in the window  
On a cold, dark winter's night  
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might’

Leaning back slightly, so she could look at him, his gaze met hers. His green eyes shone with vulnerability, and uncertainty. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders, a wry smile on his plump lips. 

“There is a reason I’m over protective of you, Y/N,” he began, their bodies still swaying in time to the music. “But I think you know me well enough by now to know how hard it is for me to talk about my feelings.” His eyes left hers to look at his feet. “So I thought I’d let Speedwagon say it for me.” 

Y/N stopped moving, Dean’s admission causing her to stop in her tracks. 

“S - sorry, what? What are you trying to say?” she asked, taking a step back. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she struggled to take in Dean’s words, unsure if he was saying what she thought he was. Suddenly she felt like she was underwater, her thoughts spinning.

She turned away from him, despite that she was desperate to hear him admit he felt the same way as she did. But now that it was out there, she wasn’t sure how to react. 

Gently taking hold of her elbow Dean turned her to face him, a worried expression on his face. “We can just drop this, if you don’t feel the same. I - I just, I don’t know. Never mind, It was stupid. I’m sorry, just forget this happened,” Dean half stuttered, releasing her arm. 

Switching off the music, he stepped away from her and threw the remote control down onto the bed. Turning his back on her, he walked towards the door.

“Dean, wait! It’s not that, it’s just--” her voice faltered as she tried to explain how she was feeling. “- It’s a bit of a shock, that's all.” 

He stopped when he reached the bedroom door, his back still to her. “It’s fine. I get it,” he replied, his voice low and spiteful.

Dean gripped the door handle and pushed it down, but before he had a chance to open the door fully, she had strode across the room. Hitting the door with the flat of her hand, she slammed it shut. 

“Don’t walk away from me, Dean,” she seethed, her voice full of pent up anger. “It’s always the same with you! Whenever you can’t handle a situation, you either walk away or get angry.”

As he spun around, his green eyes flashed. “What the fuck else am I supposed to do, Y/N?! I open up and actually talk about my feelings and you push me away. And I walk away from situations? Isn’t that exactly what you just did? You can be such a bitch. ” 

“Me? A bitch? You just told me you have feelings for me! Talk about mixed messages!” 

He grabbed her shoulders and whipped her around. Pushing her against the door, he slammed his palms against the wood on either side of her head, thick arms caging her in, trapping her. His face just inches from hers. 

Dean had always thought he was not good enough for Y/N. He was haunted by constant thoughts that he didn’t deserve to be happy.

“You just made it perfectly clear that you don’t feel the same way, so my bad!” Dean almost spat at her. 

“You’re such a fucking martyr!” She yelled back at him. “I’ve saved the world, I’m cursed, I’ve been to hell, I don’t deserve to be happy,” she mocked. 

“Don’t you fucki--” he began, but he didn’t finish the sentence, as Y/N lips crashed against his.

He kissed her back, wanting and needy, all teeth and tongue. His hands moved to the nape of her neck, fingers fisting in her hair as he pulled her head back, exposing her neck. She moaned as his mouth travelled down her exposed throat. Yanking at the sleeve of his flannel, she pulled it off his arms, dropping it to the ground. Lifting his arms above his head, he removed his black T-shirt. 

His calloused palms moved under her top, lifting it over her head, throwing it down next to his discarded clothes, his lips roughly finding hers again as soon as she was free of it. Y/N’s fingers fumbled with the buckle on Dean’s belt before he took over, undoing it swiftly along with the button and zip. Pushing his jeans over his muscular thighs, he let them pool around his ankles as he slipped his hand into the top of her shorts, wriggling them down her shapely legs. 

Without any finesse in their movements, they stumbled towards the bed, never breaking the heated kiss. Hitting the edge, they fell back onto it in a heap, Dean landing on top of Y/N. As they kicked off their remaining clothing, her hands ran over Dean’s broad shoulders as he expertly unclasped her bra, disposing of it swiftly. 

Gripping her small wrists in his large hands, he pinned her arms above her head. His mouth left hers, lips skimming down her neck, teeth nipping the skin on her collarbone. Upon hearing her moan his name, he stopped and lifted his head. 

“You’re so fucking stubborn, Y/N,” he growled, as the tip of his tongue ran down the valley between her tits. “You drive me fucking crazy!” His plump lips found her pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, tongue swirling around its stiff peak. 

“Fuck, Dean,” Y/N breathed, her voice breaking. 

“You refuse to listen to me--” he continued, flicking his tongue over her pebbled nipple, “- and get yourself into trouble.” His warm breath on her skin caused goosebumps to rise all over her body. “Then who’s gonna save you, huh?” he continued.

Y/N managed to release one hand from his grip. Grasping his short hair, she snapped his head back. His usually forest green pupils were almost black with lust, as he stared up at her, the flirtatious smirk he had mastered dancing on his lips. 

“I don’t need you to protect me,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“But you need me to do this though, don’t you?” he grinned up at her. The weight disappeared from her wrist. Dean’s hand travelled down her stomach, the rough skin on his palms tickling her as he went, until it brushed over her mound. The tips of his fingers circled her clit, sending bolts of electricity through her body. Two thick fingers delved through her folds, finding her slick hole. As he pushed them into her, she gasped, bucking her hips to meet them. “Is that what you want?” he whispered into her ear. 

“Yes, Dean. Shit,” she moaned, the sound deepening when he added a third digit, curling his fingers at the knuckle, a rhythm starting to build as he pumped them into her. His erection twitched against her thigh. Bringing her hand down, she wrapped her fingers around it, pre-cum already glistening on the velvety tip. 

“Not yet, baby,” Dean said, pushing her arm above her head again, pinning it to the bed. “You’re gonna do as you’re told for a change. You are not going to touch me until I say you can,” he insisted.

“But--“ she began, but was swiftly cut off by Dean’s mouth covering hers, his fingers still moving in a steady rhythm inside her. 

His mouth left hers. Kissing his way down her body, he removed his fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he licked each one in turn, before flashing that grin at her again. 

“Fuck, baby. You taste divine,” he said as he lifted her legs. Moving beneath her, he rested the back of each knee on his broad shoulders. With a flat tongue, he licked over her slit, until he got to her aching nub. When he sucked it in she mewled, the action forcing her to arch her back, and reach down to grip his hair. “You like that, huh?” he questioned, between kitten licks of her clit. 

No words would come to her, so she just groaned in pleasure. The coil in her stomach contracted as waves of heat washed over her. 

“I’m going to cum, Dean,” she panted, the coil tightening with each lap of his tongue. He continued eating her out like a man starved of food, pushing his fingers into her opening, scissoring them roughly.

“Cum for me,” Dean murmured, his voice low and demanding. 

When the coil snapped, she repeated his name over and over, her juices flowing, which he drank in greedily. 

“So you can do as you’re told,” he said, as he moved up her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back. When he kissed her, the taste of her own release was still on his lips. 

“My turn to tell you what to do, Winchester. Shut the hell up and fuck me,” she purred. 

He grinned, mischievously “I love it when you’re demanding.” 

Wrapping a hand around his solid cock, he pumped it a few times, lining the head up with her wet opening. As he entered her, her slick allowed him to glide in easily. Her walls fluttered around him as he pushed, slowly at first, but when finding his path was unhindered, he bottomed out. After pulling back out, almost to the tip, he thrust back into her. Hearing her pants getting faster and louder, he repeated the motion, realising the harder he did it, the louder her moans were getting. 

Pulling fully out of her, he grabbed her hips, flipping her over. To part her legs, he pushed his knees between her thighs, exposing her completely to him. Dipping his head down, he pushed his stiff tongue into her opening, dipping it into her. Her own fingers found her clit, and she started circling it, as Dean continued to tongue fuck her. 

“Fuck me, Dean! Fuck me hard,” he heard her say through her moans. 

Rising to his knees, his impressive solid cock stood ramrod straight in front of him. He roughly thrust into her, gripping her hips as he pounded into her. She pushed back against him, clearly enjoying the harsh jolt of his hips, matching his rhythm. Her hair was hanging in damp tendrils over her face, hands now flat on the mattress. Using her arms as leverage, she rose with each trust, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass was almost pornogragic. 

“Holy fuck,” Dean hissed. “I’m not going to last much longer.” 

“Cum, Dean. I wanna feel you cum inside me,” she implored. 

He thrust into again. Her walls clenched around him and he knew she was coming. Profanities spilled from her mouth at the same time as her muscles gripped him tight, the action pushing him over the edge. Releasing thick streams of cum inside her, he pulled her body up against his chest and bit down on her shoulder, his words getting lost against her skin. 

They stayed in that position, breathing heavily as they both came down from their high. Releasing her from his grip, he withdrew from her. As he lay down on the bed, he turned to face the woman who he deep down cares so much for. 

“If that happens every time we argue, then I’m gonna find ways to constantly piss you off,” Dean chuckled, as he pulled the blanket over them. 

“You don’t have to find ways to piss me off, Dean,” Y/N responded. “You do it naturally without even trying.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” he countered.

“And you’re such a jerk,” she answered. “But that’s why I love you. Now go to fucking sleep. We have a hunt tomorrow. And if you attempt to steal my kill shot, I’m gonna gank you instead,” she finished. 

“You can fucking try,” Dean laughed as he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.


End file.
